


30 Day Writing Challenge: Ohana

by beached_writer



Series: Ohana [2]
Category: Lilo & Stitch (2002), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Family, Gen, Marriage Proposal, Mild Language, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27833797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beached_writer/pseuds/beached_writer
Summary: Behind the scenes and in-between Ohana. Can be read without reading Kālā Ke ola, maybe. Probably. That might change. AKA, everything that happened in that year between fics. 1 year on and I'm still bad at summaries.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, David Kawena/Nani Pelekai, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla, Lilo Pelekai & Stitch | Experiment 626
Series: Ohana [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605826
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Fool

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Day Challenge, bitches! I'm doing this Every. Single. Day. Holidays be damned.

_Wise men say;_

_Only fools rush in_

_But I can’t help falling in love with you_

Din could hear the ever present Greatest Hits of Elvis Presley floating distantly on the ocean breeze. Out through an open window and up the hill to the private pavilion of the Pelekai house. Night had long since fallen on another day in paradise. At least, this was Din’s best idea of what paradise must be like. He figured life couldn’t get much better than this, all things considered.

His son was fast asleep in his arms, sandy body still wrapped loosely in the faded beach towel that he’d been wrestled into so they could attempt to have dinner as a family. His son. Din looked down at the little green _ad_. Eight months ago, he never would have dreamed in his wildest fantasies that he would have an _ad_. There were several things about this moment that he never would have seen coming.

 _Buir_ , he was a father. His son had called him as such, on the day he’d decided to adopt him. That had been a month ago, since he’d sworn the _gai bal manda_ , and his heart still swelled with pride every time he heard his _ad’ika_ calling for him. Well, almost every time. There were moments when he wished there were other words his son would spit out among that adorable little chatter of his.

Paz, bless his heart, was trying his best to teach the kid other words. Mainly the Mando’a for ‘Uncle’, _ba’vodu_. Paz. What was there to say about Paz? Din turned in his seat to look at the larger Mandalorian, splayed out in the hammock. Paz was fast asleep, fading sunburn giving his pale white cheeks a beautiful tan. The ever present sand that still clung to his hair, crunched ever so slightly as Vizsla shifted, rolling on his side and dragging with him the delicate shawl Nani had thrown over him when she and David decided to take a sleep drunk Lilo and Stitch to bed. That had been hours ago, and the trio on the pavilion had yet to leave their perch.

Din wasn’t ready for this moment to end. There was still so much to do, and he was weary to the bones. He was perfectly content to sit here, lifting the kid up to his chest, watching Paz sleep. Maybe the song was right. Maybe he was a fool, for falling in love with the gentle giant lying only feet away and the baby in his arms, but he didn’t care. This was his aliit, and there was nothing on this planet, in this galaxy that would make him give it up. He would fight tooth and nail, to the death if necessary, to keep them safe and happy. This was his clan, and he would defend it.


	2. Fever Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babies First Illness ... Morphs Into Something Else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw this in a 30 Day Challenge and had to run with it. It went on longer than planned.

Din supposed all things considered that the trouble began with a sudden downpour. He’d never seen a planet where it rained so often. Though if he was being honest with himself he hadn’t spent all that much time on planets where it rained at all. The kids had been out in the jungle somewhere at one of their usual haunts making a mess in some ever present mud-hole. His kid had been hunting for frogs, which was both a favored pastime and a valuable meal source for the little guy. 

He and Paz were up at the  _ Razor Crest _ working on repairs. Things were coming together nicely. The parts that they had scavenged from the Kaissed were really helping speed the process along nicely. This prospect wasn’t nearly as exciting as it might have been only a few short months ago. While he was going to be excited to have another battle ready ship ready to go at a moment’s notice, a valuable asset in any commodity, he knew what that meant. Logically, they should spin the star charts and find another planet from which to lay low. They’d already stirred up enough trouble, a message made quite clear by the visit from the Grand Councilwoman of the United Galactic Federation. 

The United Galactic Federation. He was still puzzled by that. Several long, and sometimes drunken discussions with Jumba and Pleakely had made it quite clear that the Federation was in no way, shape or form connected with the Republic, New or Old, nor the Empire. The United Galactic Federation was  _ old _ , thousands and thousands of years old, and yet had zero records of anything he was familiar with. They were a long, long way from home without the faintest clue as to how to get back. Then again, what was there to go back for? 

Din was distracted from his wandering thoughts by an awful clatter. He’d already been straying from his task, lying on the floor of the cockpit, watching the raindrops splatter and race down the transparisteel. He sat up with a start as the ship shook, and a faint whining cry floated up the ladder. 

“What is it,  _ cyar’ika _ ?” Paz’s rumble was soon to follow, as Din abandoned his tools. He was on his feet, as a reply he couldn’t quite make out, was drowned out by the sound of his boots on the cool metal. He chose to skip the ladder, jumping down the rungs and landing with a thump. He turned to address the sorry sight before him. Two out of three children were standing in a quickly forming puddle just off of the ramp, each looking far more upset about their predicament than their companion. Paz had lifted the soaked womp rat into his arms, an amused look spreading across his face. 

“What happened?!” Din demanded, all but dragging  _ ad’ika  _ into his arms. He turned on his heel, drawing the shivering and sobbing baby right up against his neck. This was the kids favorite spot to cuddle when he was having trouble getting to sleep. He reached into the rack and pulled out the babies favorite blue blanket. 

“Oh like you’ve never played out in the rain!” Paz chided, moving him gently out of the way so he could grab the rest of the blankets to divide among the shivering children. After everyone had relatively dried off, but before the storm had passed, they found themselves around an ill-advised makeshift fire pit made with loose debris, and a retasked flamethrower. The kids were happy to share their daily adventures, before settling down in warm embraces while the Mandalorians bickered over misremembered childhood memories of similar adventures. They were absolutely fascinated by this rare glimpse of the time Before. Before the Purge, before the Creed, before everything. 

Din had thought that was the end of that. All was well that ended well. By the next day, all was but forgotten. New mud-holes, created by the torrential downpour, had yet to be discovered and plundered. It was the morning after that when all Hell broke loose. With the repairs having progressed so far along, Din had moved back onto the  _ Crest _ . Paz had enthusiastically offered to move them both onto his ship, but Din was ready to be done with burdens and debts owed. He no longer wished to be any more trouble. Not to the Pelekais and most certainly to Paz Vizsla. 

It was Paz who had taken and repurposed a bit of old netting, into a hammock and securely attached it in the rack. They’d only had it up for a couple of weeks. On the nights when the kid didn’t crash with Lilo & Stitch, upstairs in the former’s bedroom of the Pelekai house. It had been a smashing success, until it no longer was. The baby had been quite fussy as the night wore on, crying, fussing and verging on the edge of throwing a full blown tantrum. Nothing Din did to try and placate his frustrated sobs seemed to work. He wasn’t hungry or thirsty. The kid was potty trained, so there weren’t diapers to worry about. He kept kicking out of his blanket, and then crying until Din wrapped him back up. It was probably one of the worst nights of his entire life, he thought desperately, until the kid had exhausted himself and finally fell asleep, snuggled in his usual spot. 

The peace lasted well until the next morning, father and son content to sleep the day away. For so long, baring work, of course, they had grown accustomed to being woken up almost as soon as the sun was in the sky. Lilo and Stitch were the perfect alarm clocks. Din woke up first, feeling flushed and disoriented. He sat up, groggily, one hand reaching up to wipe away at the gunk in his eyes, and the other to catch the baby who usually slipped down his chest. It took him another minute more, and a pitiful keening whine from the green ball now curled against his diaphragm for him to orient himself. He realized, dread dropping a heavy ball into the pit of his stomach, as he carefully lifted up the still slumbering baby for inspection, that the little guy was shivering, green cheeks and the tip of those pointy ears flushed pink. 

“ _ Ad’ika _ ?” Din asked his voice impossibly small as he cradled the baby in the crook of one elbow. With his free hand he reached up and with three fingers tried gently to shake his baby awake, rubbing on his chest. He felt his heart seize when with a hitched breath, almost like a hiccup, the boy opened his eyes blearily. He whined in protest, before trying to roll over the movement causing him to start coughing, his tiny little body beginning to shake. 

Din didn’t remember anything after that. One second he was sitting up in his bed, trying to wake his sickly baby, and the next he was standing in the kitchen, Ad’ika clumsily wrapped in a blanket in his arms, trying to explain his symptoms to an equally sleep deprived Nani. Nani stood at the stove, one eye impatiently trained on the impossibly slow-drip coffee pot, still trying to process this morning’s events. 

“I know, I know,” Nani said, turning back from her task to address the desperate father face to face. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. Lilo and Stitch have it too. It’s just a cold.”

“A cold?” Din asked, half-collapsing into the nearest chair. For some reason this triggered distant memories of a childhood illness, overheated blankets, gross medicine, and warm soup. “Is it serious?”

“It’s just a cold,” Nani repeated, turning back to the cabinets to fish out three mugs. “No, it’s not that serious. They musta gotten it the other day. I promise, everything’s going to be okay. Coffee? You look tired.”

Of course, because life had a way of continuing to find curveballs to throw, it wasn’t always that simple. Nani had cold medicine on hand for Lilo, which was all well and good. She was almost back to normal by the following afternoon. The same could not be said for her otherworldly playmates, on the other hand. Stitch’s symptoms quickly dwindled down to a stuffy, drippy congested nose, and a generally groggy disposition. It was the kid’s symptoms that took a wild turn. 

The fever cleared up, all was well on that front. The kid had the hardest time shaking this, though. Din realized as he leaned back in the rack for what promised to be his third sleepless night in a row, that for all he knew this could be the kid’s first major illness. He’d only had him for a few months, and yet he hardly knew anything about the green baby sniffing quietly in his arms. He didn’t even have a name for crying out loud. This fact had been pointed out enough times for him to be a bit sore of the subject. He wasn’t going to name the kid because it didn’t feel right. There could be a family out there who was missing this kid, who had long since given him a name. Din had already stolen their kid, he felt he had no right to steal his name as well. 

The kid began to wiggle in his arms, congested snorts betraying his struggle to do the simplest of tasks. He knew what was coming next and leaned back against the far wall of the rack. It had been like this for the last three days, and all anyone could agree on was that it was best just to ride it out. There didn’t seem to be anything one could do, and both father and baby were absolutely miserable for it. With a terrible raspy little whine, the little guy cracked open his eyes, a pained expression evident. 

“I know,  _ ik’aad _ , I know,” Din whispered, reaching up to rub his ears. He drew his knees up so he could rest the little boy on his legs and get a good look on him. There was a certain weightlessness to the air around them, and he knew the sniffing baby in his lap was the cause of it. This was why he’d retreated to the ship. There was so much less to destroy in here. With the baby readjusted, he reached down to take his claws in his hands. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Without further ado, the baby sneezed pink mucus, before coughing, and beginning a pitiful little cry. Gravity now returned to its usual settings, he could hear things crashing back to the cool durasteel. He was in so much pain, and it was breaking Din’s heart that there wasn’t anything he could do. Din pulled him back to his chest, rubbing small comforting circles into his back. “ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,”  _

Three days, and three never ending nights, they’d been repeating this vicious cycle. Din stared out into the dimly lit hull of the ship, beginning to wish he’d brought a bottle of water with him. He was undeniably parched, so much so that his eyes were painfully dry. He felt so heavy. Every part of him ached, but most importantly his head. His head was pounding a dull thud, rattling his skull with each pulse. With a pained groaned, gritting his teeth, Din leaned back against the wall. He realized, with a sigh of relief, that felt  _ good _ . The steel was cold and unforgiving, but in the moment it was just as good as a nice, warm blanket. His eyes had never felt this heavy, and yet he had to stay awake. He needed to be there for anything  _ Ad’ika _ might need. He groaned again, parched lips sticking together with the last bits of departing moisture. He supposed there wasn’t any harm in closing his eyes. The baby had drifted off as it was. Surely he’d wake up before the next wave hit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surely everything will be just fine come morning. There is no cause for concern. None at all.   
> Stay Tuned. I'm either going to post Part II tonight before I go to bed, or first thing tomorrow so I can get cracking on Day Three's theme. Which will probably be less dramatic. Maybe. No promises.   
> Love you all.


	3. Fever Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody still hasn't figured out he doesn't have to be a one man army anymore.

Paz had decided enough was enough, as the fourth day dawned. He was tired of being swept to the sidelines by anxious parents who thought they knew better than him. He was older than all of them, and if was going to compare kids, he’d raised more than any of them. It wasn’t the Pelekai House he was needed at. Those two had made a recovery, and from the shouting floating over the breeze, chaos had once again reigned supreme. No, his destination this morning was a battered gray starship, only a few hundred yards from the ship that had now become his. The  _ Razor Crest _ had been his father’s before him, inherited after the Purge from where his father did not escape. He had gifted the  _ Crest  _ to a certain hotheaded _beroya_ , as a congratulations for the promotion. Those had been the days, not long after they swore the Creed, when the romance had still been in its infancy. That ship had seen better days, though she was coming back together nicely. 

He knew something was wrong the minute he got within earshot. Din would never let the kid cry that loud for that long. Not unless something was wrong. He was still about 100 yards out when he began to run. He stumbled into the clearing, staggering to a stop as he tried to assess the situation. The side hatch was partially open, the angry cries of a distressed infant flung through the air. Even from here he could see the lights flickering from inside, as the baby continued to scream. It was a bit of struggle, but he finally managed to haul himself into the ship’s bay and was met with a sight that turned his blood to ice. 

The sobbing baby was sitting in a state of undress on a haphazard stack of crates that hadn’t been touched since the crash landing. He was clutching his blanket and staring at the prone form lying on the floor between them. Din was passed out cold on the floor of the cargo bay, completely unmoved. This wasn’t good. Paz crossed the floor in a few short clips, sweeping the hysterical baby up into his arms. 

“Oh you poor thing. How long have you been like this?” He asked, mostly to himself, as he pulled at the little boy’s sweat soaked pajamas. The screaming had stopped almost as soon as the boy was safe in his arms. This was a welcome relief. It gave him space to think. With one anxious glance at Din, he walked back to the sleeping compartment. He sat the baby down on the edge of the bed, casting yet another worried look over his shoulder as he did so. A small whine brought him back to the toddler sitting before him. “I know, I’m just worried about your  _ buir _ ,  _ ad’ika _ . Let’s get you into some dry clothes, though, alright? You won’t get better like this.” 

As he turned away to fetch a fresh outfit from where Din had been keeping the kid’s things there was finally some movement from the lump on the floor. Din groaned and muttered something incomprehensible, before attempting to roll over, only to give up and appear to melt even further into the durasteel. Well at least he was still alive, that was a good place to start. It didn’t take long to get the kid changed. He was far more well behaved than some of the infant’s Paz had cared for in his time. Instead, the kid kept stealing glances past him out towards where Din continued to flop around on the floor like a half-dead fish. 

Paz realized, with some dismay, that things weren’t going to go as easily as he had initially planned upon setting out this morning. For all intents and purposes, he had intended on marching up here and forcing Din’s hand. This wasn’t Din’s solo struggle anymore. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer either. He had already intended on taking the child until he was better, and all but forcing Din to rest so he too wouldn’t get sick. He was clearly far too late on that front. With the Djarin trademarked sigh, Paz drew out the vibroblade he knew Din always kept hidden in the rack. Because it was where  _ he’d _ always kept a blaster hidden, when the ship had been under his command. He reached up and cut down the hammock he’d only just strung up for the baby currently suckiling on the fingers of his stray hand. 

In no time flat, and with only a few light promises, he had managed to arrange a  _ birikad _ and said baby in the baby carrying harness. Din had managed to roll himself onto his back, which was a welcome sight, as Paz approached. 

“Who's there?” Din rasped, in a voice that sounded so small and frightened. Paz could fear his heart aching as he stepped into view. 

“ _ Jate vaar’tur, cyar’ika _ ,” Paz said, giving him an encouraging smile. “Sleep well?”

“Who are you?” Din said in a hoarse whisper, cheeks flushed. His black curly hair was soaked in sweat, his eyes glistening with the tell tale signs of fever. His hand flopped down to his side, where he usually kept his blaster when he wore his armor. That hand slapped his thigh when no blaster fell into comfortable grasp. “Where am I? What’s happening?”

“Din, it’s me,” Paz said, slowly crouching down as his concern once again mounted. He reached out with the back of his palm to the top of Din’s burning forehead, as if to confirm to himself what he already knew. “You know who I am. Look, it’s alright, I have  _ ad’ika _ . Everything’s going to be alright. I’m going to get you to my ship, and all will be well again.”

“What have you done?” Din said, his voice thick with horror as something absolutely tragic dawned on him. “Who ...  _ Paz _ ? Paz is that you? Paz what’s happening?”

Before Paz could respond, Din had mercifully passed out again. Paz realized, much to his chagrin and horror, that he may have done more harm than good. Din’s fever had gotten so bad, that for the moment he had a lapse in memory, unable to remember anything of the last few months. If not further. At least, he had to hope this was temporary. 

Din awoke in a fog, his head pounding as the bland room slowly took shape. It was a little disconcerting to say the least. Because the last thing he remembered was closing his eyes for just a moment in his bunk on the  _ Crest _ . And now he was back on Paz’s ship, buried under a pile of blankets, his throat parched, somewhat confused and a bit angry. It didn’t take long for Paz to come into shape, perched anxiously on the edge of the large bed, concern etched permanently on that beautiful face. 

“How are you feeling?” Paz asked, when he was sure Din was focused on him. 

“Like steamed bantha dung,” Din croaked, a hand flirting to his aching throat. “Do you have anything to drink? I’d kill for some spotchka.”

“Well too bad, because you’re getting lemon and honey tea from here on out. First things first, where do you think we are?” Paz asked, as he stood up and came around the bed to the thermos David had brought down. 

“In your godawful ship,” Din groaned, leaning his head against the headboard with a soft thud. “I thought you hated anything to do with the Empire. You said as much when we fought in the tunnels on Nevarro.”

“Right you are,” Paz said, beginning to relax. He poured the drink and set it in Din’s hand. “I told you, this was reparations. I killed the ex-Imperial warlord whose last remaining pride and joy was this ‘god awful’ ship. Now drink up.”

“On the condition you tell me where the kid is. How is he?” Din asked, eyeing the tea with extremely unwarranted suspicion. He had never been a fan of leaf flavored water, though Paz got as excited about it as he did about coffee. 

“He’s fine,” Paz said, his concern evaporating. “He’s just fine. He’s up at the house with the Pelekai’s. He’s doing much better today. You, on the other hand, aren’t going anywhere until I give you a clear bill of health. You aren’t going to scare me like that again. Do you understand me,  _ cyare _ ?”

“Aye,  _ alor’ad _ ,” Din muttered around the steaming plastic cup. With his free hand, he gave Paz a mocking salute, a playful grin tugging at his chapped lips. All was well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't bare making y'all wait, so two chapters in one night. Here ya go.


	4. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Paz attend Pridefest. What's the worst that could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have only just learned today that these things are supposed to be a lot shorter. I apologize for the length. I promise to do better in the future.   
> *Minor homophobic language. For like one second, at the very end. A thousand apologies but someone gets their just desserts real quick*

David and Nani had been enthusiastically planning this trip for the better part of a month. Keeping it a secret from the Mandalorians had been a harder task than they had originally anticipated. They were a suspicious pair by nature. They called it their key to survival. Din had made it painfully clear that he didn’t like surprises. Still, this promised to be fun. 

It wasn’t hard to convince them to fly together to Honolulu. Under the guise of just taking a day to themselves. They could afford that much time away. David’s family all but jumped at the opportunity to babysit. They had already met Stitch, so Din’s kid wasn’t as much of a stretch for them. Din was excited to have an excuse to get the  _ Razor Crest _ airborne. Paz didn’t seem nearly as confident, inviting David and Nani up the cockpit, before wedging himself into the rack. He could have sworn this space had shrunk since he was a young man. In the worst case scenario, he’d be most secure from any tumbling debris. 

They’d had to fly in under the cover of darkness. Kauai might be adjusting to the aliens who barely made it a secret as to their settling there, but Oahu was a different story. As it was, Nani already knew of the perfect place to land the  _ Crest _ , having gone over maps with Din only a few days before the trip. She was far more confident in his ability to land better than Jumba had. The target area was the crumbling remains of some kind of World War II bunker doting the lip of the Koko Crater. Admittedly, when the sun rose, there might be some who would notice the grey starship parked high above the sky, but nothing could stand out quite like the Jumba’s big, red starship.

It was a tight squeeze for the antique gunship, but Din had parked it in worse places. They hadn’t crashed into the ocean, despite Paz’s worries, so anything was a plus. David, it seemed, hadn’t actually  _ been  _ on a starship before, and spent basically the entire flight interrogating Din about the purpose and function of every switch and blinking light in the cockpit. Though Nani had apologized nothing short of a dozen times, he had been nothing short of amused. It wasn’t dissimilar from flying with the kid, except David didn’t reach out and press random buttons just because he wasn’t being paid enough attention to. 

Din was out of his seat as soon as he’d switched off the engines, pausing for a half-second at the top of the ladder. What had given him pause was the passing thought of how much he missed his cape, and the dramatic flair it gave him. With a self-amused smirk, he dropped down the ladder with practiced ease. Just in time to find Paz sitting on the edge of the rack, face somewhat flushed with obvious effort. 

“Are you alright,  _ cyar’ika _ ?” Din asked, voice choking with barely contained laughter. 

“Yes, of course, never doubted you for a second,” Paz replied, having completely ignored the question. “Which way is the exit?”

“I think this way might be best. Just, be mindful of your step,” Din said, crossing the floor to the door control panel. After taking another second to orient himself according to where he’d landed, Din decided to open the rear delivery hatch. 

Coincidentally, time had lined up perfectly. For, as David and Nani descended the ladder, and the hatch dropped to the metal grate of the abandoned bunker, the sun had begun to crest over the horizon. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight, one that Din hoped he would never tire of. They didn’t get to enjoy it for long, once Nani glanced at the time, and began ushering everyone down the ramp with an increased sense of urgency. She was still going on about the bus they had to catch, until they came to a stop at the top of the descent. It was a sharp decline, down unforgiving volcanic rock and untended scrub. The only viable path was created by an abandoned railroad, and it had probably been abandoned as long as this area had been a state park. None of them had gotten this far in the planning phase. 

There was only one way down, and it was a doozy. Almost everyone nearly took a spill, only saved from a painful fall by the swift actions of their fellows. Luckily, because of the fraction of gravity on this planet, it wasn’t a long hike down to more level ground. It was only another half mile hike to the closest bus stops. It was all fairly easy, a day out on the town, though the closer they got to their destination in Honolulu proper, the more excited Nani and David appeared to become. The Mandlorians were still not aware of their intentions, but it was starting to smell oddly off an unwanted surprise. 

They stepped off the bus into a street crowded with people, awash in jubilant music and bright colors. It was reminiscent of a Life Day the pair had found themselves smack dab in the middle of, years and galaxies away. 

“Welcome to Pride!” Nani and David announced in sync, before exchanging odd looks, as someone had clearly stepped on the others line. 

“What’s there to be so prideful of?” Din asked, finding himself attaching to Paz as the crowd surged around their little island like a fast flowing river. 

“Pride, Gay Pride. They have something like this back home for you guys, right?” David asked, after an awkward pause. It was now the Mandalorians' turn to exchange glances. 

“Gay Pride? No offense, but where we come from-” Paz said, throwing an arm around his  _ ori’vod _ , a grin spreading across his face, “No one cares who you fuck.” 

It didn’t take long for the group to decide it was time to get off the main drag. This had meant threading through the thick of the throng, past beautiful dancers in traditional costumes, and tall speakers blasting something David referred to as a ‘gay anthem’. Din wasn’t sure what a dancing queen had to do with an anthem, but he wasn’t going to be the first to argue over the strange Earth customs. 

They would seek shelter in the oddest of venues. It was a traditional British pub, smack dab in the middle of Honolulu. Unsurprisingly, it was the least crowded spot within viable walking distance. This made the following uncomfortable conversation about another of Earth’s strange customs that much easier, without people to cast odd glances. For a planet so small and obtuse the magic of the galaxy beyond, the people that lay within it were largely obsessed with things that were far beyond their business. 

With the day threatening to sour, Din found himself at the bar ordering a round. It was time for everyone to relax and cut loose. There was a party happening in the streets, and they might as well enjoy it. If these people wanted to celebrate with their partners, free of persecution, then who was he to sour that. Though, he supposed, as he waited for the bartender's attention, not everyone had gotten that message. 

Just down the bar sat a man who had apparently made it his daily business to make everyone just as miserable as he looked. Everything about him screamed ‘tourist’ from the burnt red skin to the stiffly collared shirt soaked with sweat. He was clearly deep into the bottle, his bitter words slurring together. 

“I say, I say, I came here from New York to escape this bullshit. They do this shit in June, ‘cause ... ‘cause that’s when the riot was, right? It’s fucking October. Enough with this shit! You feel me pal?”It took Din a moment to realize that the drunk was talking to him. He was too busy trying to ignore him, to acknowledge him, until he carried on. “I mean, they get the month, the whole  _ month _ of June. We should get a whole month. How about it?” 

Din was somewhat relieved when the bartender finally turned his attention his way. He was in the process of ordering four drinks when he made the mistake of overhearing the drunkard one last time. 

“That’s it,” He declared, finishing his drink and slapping the empty glass on the polished bar. It tipped over, spilling the last drops to the oak below. He didn’t seem to notice, too busy failing in his various attempts to right himself. “I hereby declare the month of October to be Straight Pride Month! Fucking faggots.”

“What did you say?” Din asked, turning his head sharply as he felt the tips of his ears beginning to burn. 

“I said,” The man enunciated, turning sloppily to face the Mandalorian, “Fuck the faggots. It’s Straight Pride Month, we’re taking it all back.”

Din had to admit, he didn’t actually remember lunging across the gap between them. Paz would tell him later, in secret, after Nani was done reading him the riot act, that he had been quite proud of the brutal punch. The blood splatter alone, as the drunken spiraled and slammed to the floor, stiff as a board, was enough to bring a smile to his lips every time he shared the story of the first time his boyfriend went toe to toe with a drunken homophobe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you enjoyed. None of my prompts were vibing today, so I went a completely different path. Would kind of love some comments about y'all's thoughts, but it's no pressure.


	5. Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody makes the mistake of giving the kids sugar. Din ponders the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think we all needed this after today's episode, no? I know I need a hug right about now.

It had all started with an ice cream cone. A simple ice cream cone. And now Din was laboring in the far too small sink of the nearest public bathroom, trying in vain to get the sticky melted cream. As if this task wasn’t difficult enough with the narrow basin, the kid was far from cooperative. With another ear piercing screech like he was in horrific agony, the kid finally jerked out of his grip, falling back with a splash in the small puddle of soapy water that had begun to back up in the sink. 

Din sighed, looking up and catching his reflection in the mirror. He reached over to turn off the faucet, each taking a moment to collect themselves. He didn’t know what issue was. The kid usually loved bath time. Probably because it gave him a chance to put his powers to the test. His absolutely favorite bath time game, much to the bereavement of whoever had drawn the short straw, was floating spheres of water, zooming them around the bathroom, and dropping them back in the general direction of the bath. 

“Are you alright?” Din asked in a measured tone as he helped the baby sit up, leaning his back against the cracked mirror. He was met with the usual baby chatter, and forlorn overplayed pouting that the kid only worked up to when he knew he’d done wrong. That little pout finally drew a laugh out of Din, “ _ Elek, ad’ika, you’re okay _ .” 

He realized what was the cause of all the fuss, reaching past the sink for the paper towel dispenser. The kid, he supposed, had started all of this. They’d gotten the kids ice cream cones, a nice treat for a scorching day. Ice cream was another one of those strange Earth things Din had started compiling a list of, to study further. They’d only been on this planet less than two weeks, and there was still so much to learn. Din had to admit that he had been distracted, staring at his own ice cream cone until it began to melt. One second all had been mercifully calm. For the first time in as many days, there had been relative peace and quiet as the kids devoured their treat. 

Of course, armistice was never meant to last. The kid was becoming overwhelmed, long overdue for a nap, and verging on the edge of what would turn out to be the sugar rush from Hell. He had spotted something across the park they had come to play at, other children playing a game perhaps. Whatever it was, he had felt it necessary, in that moment to point it out to his playmates. Being nonverbal, of course, had its drawbacks, so he had attempted to point with his ice cream cone, crying out and gesticulating wildly as he became excited. It had all happened so fast. Stitch had been turning, probably reacting to the baby on the verge of kicking up a fuss, and had gotten an ice cream cone to the face. 

Upon reflection, this was probably a moment to laugh about, long down the road when the mere sight of ice cream didn’t make the kid burst into overworked tears. Stitch must have thought the kid was initiating another strange game. They had been inventing new games to play with each other for a few days now, testing the boundaries of their new friendship. With a garbled cry in what must have been  _ his _ native language, he immediately snatched Lilo’s cone out of her surprised grip, and slapped it on the kids head. Din was still trying to take the first bite of his own cone, and the next thing he knew the kid was screaming, Lilo was yelling at Stitch, people were staring, and the white cream was coating the kid in a sticky, sugary mess. 

As he wiped up what remained, Din reflected that it might be past time to establish some ground rules when it came to playtime. That would be a thing good parents did? I mean, he was the kid’s de facto parent, for better or worse. The Armorer had said as much. As he lifted the now somewhat sedated baby up for inspection, Din cocked his head, deep in thought. Maybe it was time to take the next step, make this all official. Until the kid cried with joy and dropped the soapy bubble that had been keeping him occupied as Din was lost in his thoughts, drenching them both in the same mess he had been working so hard to clean. 

“ _ Ad’ika _ ...” Din growled softly, back to square one as the kid began to giggle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the time jumps cause any kind of confusion. I just kind of go where the whim takes me. I hope y'all enjoyed.


	6. Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz takes the upper hand and moves their relationship to the next level. Threats are only thinly veiled.

Paz had been the one to suggest moving in together. Well, “suggest” is a nice term for it. It wasn't the first time he’d made the offer. He’d been offering almost as soon as they had made it official. That day on the beach, when he’d adopted the kid, and kissed for the first time. Paz had offered to move him in, at least until the  _ Razor Crest _ was repaired. Din had declined the offer, not wanting to be a burden. Paz wasn’t offering anymore. 

“You and the kid are moving onto my ship. No buts about it,” Paz said, in no uncertain terms, after finding Din sitting in the  _ Crest _ , cleaning his weapons for the umpteenth time out of pure boredom. Paz had been extremely overprotective of late, and Din would be lying if he didn’t admit he kind of liked it. It all stemmed from that morning Paz had found him passed out, only a few feet from where he sat perched on the pile of crates. 

“Oh we are, are we?” Din asked, cocking one eyebrow as he looked up from his tedious task, turning his blaster so it was aimed even further into the ship. Away from the baby, playing a little game that involved pebbles and sticks from the jungle outside. His strange game was abandoned the minute he recognized that Paz had arrived. He shrieked and ran to grab Paz by the boot, demanding to be picked up. The Heavy Infantryman was all too happy to oblige, bending down to sweep the tiny tot up into his arms with a gentle toss, causing shrieking gales of laughter. 

“Yes, you are. I’ve got it all figured out,  _ cyare _ . There’s plenty of room for the both of you. I even have a private room for the kid all to himself,” Paz said, before raising the pitch in his voice to compliment the kid on the fistful of dead grass he kept trying to shove in his face. “I see,  _ ik’aad _ , I do.”

“What exactly do you have all figured out?” Din asked, unable to help the smile that filtered across his features. He decided to abandon his task, quickly but professionally stowing the gun away in its locked case. It would go back in the locker before he went to bed, but there were more pressing matter. Like crossing the floor of the hanger, and sweeping his boyfriend and son into a hug. He would play this game of Paz’s as far as it went, entertaining the motion. 

“You said, last time I asked, that you’d never let the kids so much as spend the night, not so long as I had my ‘hoard’, in your own words,  _ cyare _ , on board. You were right of course. It simply isn’t safe to let them play anywhere unsupervised, not with everything we’ve got spread between both ships. So, I thought, why not just compromise both of our hoards onto one ship, that being this one,” 

“Are you in-,” Din began to admonish him, before a thought occurred to him. “The ground security protocols. Paz, this could work.”

“ _ I know _ . Nothing on this planet is getting into this ship. Where’d you pick that up anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Paz said, stepping back so he could begin taking a mental measurement of the cargo hold. 

“I had a run in with some Jawas,” Din grumbled, deciding he didn’t want to carry on that topic any further. He reached out to draw the kid into his arms, turning his attention to his  _ ad _ . He gave Paz a few minutes to walk around, muttering to himself, before asking, “And where, exactly, will we be putting the kid?”

There was such a phrase as eating one's words, and Din was beginning the thought process as he stood in the doorway of the room Paz had chosen for the kid. Ad’ika was playing on the main bed, chatting to himself and the stuffed toy he’d brought with him. Din took one last look at the space before turning to face his  _ ori’vod _ , his arms crossing his chest, as a frown tugged at his lips. 

“This seems like an acceptable place to put  _ our _ kid?” He asked, and almost instantly began to question his choice to enunciate his word choice. 

“What’s the issue?” Paz asked, hanging out in the hallway as it wasn’t simply conducive to the space for both of them to fit. “So it’s a little small. He doesn’t need that much room.”

“You want to put the kid in a closet?” Din reiterated, though he had to admit the idea was growing on him. Paz made fair points, but Din wanted to see how far he’d take this. 

Paz frowned, almost pouting, before throwing out his last pitch, his hands propped up on his hips, “I mean, if you  _ really _ want, we could put his bed in our room. If its what your heart truly desires, he could spend Every. Single. Night, in the corner.”

It didn’t take Din long to realize the implications of that thinly veiled threat, his eyebrow climbing up to his hairline. The moment hung heavy before he said, in an unwavering tone that left no room for argument, “He stays here. We need to get a door that locks.” 

Paz smirked, before sweeping in to pull him into a kiss. He didn’t think he could be much happier than this moment. If he was being honest with himself, he’d thought for sure he’d never get this far. Things were coming together beautifully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, it's been a pleasure, and I hope you enjoyed. Please let me know what you think.


	7. The Drawing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kid makes art ... and someone decides to ask a very important question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired by this art, link below.   
> https://twitter.com/amadinafasciata/status/1214632945035759619?s=19  
> I am still not over Chapter 14, so expect lots of fluff.

As the school year began, and Lilo was spirited away from her friends for most of the day, a dynamic began to settle into routine. Stitch would go off on adventures, like always, but he wouldn’t always take the child with him, which was perfectly fair and well within his rights to do. With Jumba and Pleakely almost always conveniently otherwise occupied, the care of the youngest member of the family was passed between the other four adults like the short end of the straw. Not that there was any kind of implication in that statement, they all loved the boy dearly, but he was far too young to be left unattended for hours on end. 

Today was Paz’s day, as it was with increasing relative. Not that he minded. He loved bonding with Din’s little boy. They’d gone up to the big house to cook lunch, just to change environments. The kid was babbling to himself, working on a project he’d been very secretive about. As in, whenever Paz tried to peek a glimpse, the baby would throw his tiny arms over it in vain, and whine angrily until Paz looked away and apologized.

He was turning around to set the bowl of soup down, carefully maneuvering the too-full bowl around the mess of papers and crayons. The kid had insisted on carting up his entire art collection, making Paz unsure what he defined as his current project. 

“Okay,  _ ik’aad _ , you’re doing a wonderful job, but it’s time to eat,” Paz said, reaching out to carefully separate the boy from his crayon. He was just praying to avoid a meltdown. “I promise you can get  _ right  _ back to just as soon you’re done.” 

“ _ Ba’vodu _ !” The kid cried indignantly, waving his hands emphatically. There was a sudden surge of energy, Paz was close enough to feel the displacement in the air. He could only watch as the bowl of soup was shoved back by an invisible force, its contents sloshing on the paper. Before Paz had time to react, he was distracted by the paper being waved in his face. When the image finally came into focus, the mess was an afterthought. 

Paz reached out carefully to take the proffered drawing, the rest of the world spinning away as he stared, transfixed. It was a simple child’s drawing, but in Paz’s quickly blurring vision it was a work of art. It was a portrait of the three of them, he realized after a moment. Din had to be the man in the metal armor, armor a far darker shade of grey as his original drawing materials had probably been rough stubs of coal at best. The boy had scribbled what must have been a self portrait, front and center, those large pointy ears impossible to miss. Though the kid in the drawing was far bluer than the artist, sitting in his chair and looking up at Paz with an adoring look, chirping inquisitively. Paz was lost in thought and awe, staring at the newest addition to the drawing of father and son. The shock of blonde hair, and the rounder figure was unmistakably meant to be him. 

“Oh  _ ad’ika _ ,  _ ast mesh’la. Vor entye _ !” Paz said, reaching down to pull the baby up into his arms and kissing the top of that wrinkled little head. 

The pavilion on the ridge above the Pelakai house had become a nice, quiet little stop to end the evening, letting things unwind. Tonight was one of those nights. Tomorrow morning, Din was leaving for a temporary job in Honolulu, for however long that entailed. Paz had said his piece about their separation, he wasn’t here tonight to bring up still sore wounds. He leaned back in his chair, watching the pair sitting just a few feet ahead of him. Din was sitting in the hammock, the baby in his lap, both of them fascinated by a book Din was reading aloud. It was one of Lilo’s, something about a baby that ate a fruit and gained superpowers. Paz wasn’t listening, instead he was fascinated with memorizing every single inch of the man he’d give and do anything for. 

“Din, I have something to ask of you,” Paz said suddenly, before the courage escaped him once again. He’d been wanting to ask all afternoon. The question had been eating him up ever since he’d picked up that picture. 

“What is that,  _ cyar’ika _ ?” Din asked, a warm but sleepy smile crossing his features, as he looked up. He couldn’t help but notice that Paz had eyes only for him. He had an inkling that it had something to do with that picture he’d found proudly pinned up in their room. 

“ _ Will you do me the honor of becoming my riduur _ ?” Paz asked, unable to stop himself any longer. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but what came next was surely a surprise. 

Din gasped, losing his balance, and falling out of the hammock in dramatic fashion. It was a small miracle and decades of skill that kept the kid from joining him on the deck. Still, Paz found himself on his knees, lunging hopelessly in a desperate attempt to stop this night from taking a turn for the worst. For a moment, time stood still. Din had popped up on the other side of the hammock, staring with powerfully mixed emotions across the yards of fabric at the man on the other side. This moment was broken by an excited toddler, completely oblivious to the moment that was trickling away like the sands of time often do, clapping his hands and bouncing, demanding for his  _ buir _ to repeat whatever trick had made the hammock swing wild. 

“ _ Marry you _ ?” Din rasped in a tone that might have been mistaken for horror. Paz was frozen still, only able to watch as Din tried to wrap his mind around the idea. He loved Paz, there was no denying that. He had heard what Vizsla had said, but he was still working on believing it. He didn’t think it was possible for someone to love him enough to want to spend forever with him. He couldn’t stop the words that spilled from his lips, not that he wanted to. “Swear the  _ riduurok _ and become  _ riduur _ ? Of course I do, Paz, I ... I thought you’d never ask. Yes, yes of course. A thousand times, yes.”

“ _ Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum _ ,” Paz said softly, reaching across the hammock, taking his hands in his. He realized he had one more thing left to do to make this evening complete. They’d wait to take the  _ riddurok _ , this they had agreed on as teenagers, when the notion of proposal and a future seemed like a pipe dream. There were rituals to follow, tribal blessings to earn, and they had waited 20 odd years for this moment. They could wait however long it took to be reunited. However, there was something far more pressing to attend to. 

“ _ Ad’ika, ik’aad, look at me _ ,” Paz spoke softly, breaking away one hand to catch the confused toddler and gently turn him about to face him. As if he understood how serious this moment was, the kid was quiet, one hand holding whatever toy he had insisted on bringing up here, the other wrapping around Paz’s thumb “I love you too. It’s important you know that. So, here goes,  _ Ni kyr’tal gai sa’ad _ ,  _ ad’ika _ .” 

There was a wet sound from across the way that caused Paz to look back across the hammock. Din had begun to weep, tears streaming down his face, the hand that wasn’t squeezing Paz’s was curled into a fist over his heart, as he rasped, “ _ I love you too. I love you both so much _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied. This does dip into the Kālā Ke ola timeline, but only because I want to make the rest of it hurt even more! You don't have to read it if you don't want to.


	8. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Paz decide to decorate the babies room. What's the worst that can happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I almost quit today. I don't want to sound like I'm begging, but I'd love to get some feedback because I feel like I'm drowning here.

Paz was first out of the car, as the baby had been kicking up a fuss since they’d picked him from Lilo’s dance class. This trip had been rather last minute, as it wasn’t often that all three of them; Din, Paz and Nani had time to get together like this. Din hung back, if only for a minute, at Nani’s request to do so. A brief conversation was had before Din, alone, slipped out of the beat-up Jeep and made his way inside. For the moment outside, between car and building, he found himself shivering in the late November chill. He was beginning to regret not wearing his jacket, this morning, not that it would matter. He’d been on far colder planets, but he supposed he was finally adjusting to this planet’s humidity enough for it to affect him.

Hovering just inside the lobby was a sight that gave him temporary pause as his heart fluttered. It was an adorable sight, to say the least. Hearing the jingle of the bell above the door, the baby, sitting facing frontwards in Paz’s arms, was turning to see his father. Bright green face lighting up in excitement and pure joy, like he hadn’t just seen him only a few minutes ago. Din hoped he would never grow tired of this, reaching out to take the boy before he, inevitably, started reaching out. 

“Miss me already,  _ ad’ika _ ?” He teased softly, bringing the little boy up to his face so he could get a good look at him. He looked adorable, Din was willing to admit that, one little green ear poking out from under the hooded jacket he was bundled in. He was brought out of his trance, countless moments later, when Paz ran a familiar brushing hand down his flank. 

“Nani said she was coming in after you, right?” Paz asked, his tone somewhat agitated with tension, but he was unable to hide the smile that had cropped up watching the preceding moment. 

“Uh, no,” Din said, settling the little one in a comfortable perch on his hip so they could turn him away should anyone try to get a closer look. “She said she’d be back later, though.” 

“Right,” Paz turned, both of them looking out over the crowded store, positively overflowing with Everything Baby. It was a bit overwhelming, for those navigating into uncharted waters. He reached up to pull his hood back up, seeking some sense of security, he cleared his throat somewhat trepidatiously. “This can’t be  _ that _ hard.”

“It’s like any market on an unfamiliar planet,” Din found himself reassuing his  _ ori’vod _ , sensing his anxiety. They were here to decorate the babies room on the IPV-1. “Divide and conquer. Haggle for a fair and reasonable price. At least we know there won’t be a language barrier.”

“And we only have so much space to work with,” Paz muttered, to no one in particular. “ _ Jate’kara _ .” 

" _ Jate’kara _ ,” Din returned, reaching up to squeeze Paz’s shoulder with his free hand before beginning to walk away. “You got this. We’ll be right over here, if you need us.  _ Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's prompt, if I stick with it, is going to be funny. There's a certain scene in Chapter 12 that it is begging to be recreated.


End file.
